Passing By
by FrenchieLeigh
Summary: She was an average girl, polite and traditional, looking for an average husband. He was an impulsive man with many lovers, not looking for a wife. Neither of them ever expected to fall in love with anyone. A Harada Sanosuke fic. Side story to CiF
1. Unsteady Casanova

**Author's Notes:** Because this doesn't really fit into the current timeline of CiF, I'm posting it as it's own little story so I can have a little bit more freedom with events and I don't have to worry about blending it with the other chapters. :)

To anyone who is reading this for Harada and _hasn't_ read CiF but intends to, there are spoilers for chapters 27 & 28 (in which a major plot event occurs). If you don't intend to read it, continue on :D

When I first began CiF, I pretty much lived in Wikiland (I still frequent, even if I disregard/deny a lot) and after reading that Harada had gone off and gotten himself hitched, I felt I needed to have it mentioned. The more I thought about it, however, the more it began to develop and that's how I ended up here.

I hope you enjoy it :)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the official Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X characters. I do reserve the rights to all OCs.

**ONE**: Unsteady Casanova

"You're staring again. Harada-san."

Harada Sanosuke tore his attention from the pottery shop and turned to his short, youthful friend, Okita Soushi.

"I was juss' lookin'."

Okita smiled as he always did and shook his head. They were on their way back to the dojo, after having spent an hour by the forest. It was something Harada did quite frequently and when the woman Okita loved so dearly had been suddenly swept up by Katsura and the Choshu, Harada thought it might just be a good idea to take his heartbroken comrade on his woodland journeys.

At first, Okita had laughed off the idea with a wave of his hand and a bright, _I'm fine, Harada-san._, but Harada knew better. They all did. After several days of coaxing and persuading, the freakishly cheerful captain had agreed. It was only an hour after all.

The next day his reluctance was noticeably short lived and in the days that followed, Harada found him waiting.

The serenity of the forest took the edge of off daily life for Harada. In just that one hour, sitting in silence and listening to nature's activity, he felt normal. The birds were his favourite. They would sit there and chatter, chirp, and sing as if they were holding a conversation. The difference in pitches, the long notes vs the bitter snippets of sound; it was all so entertaining to him.

The routine of it all helped too. Harada wasn't the sort of man who enjoyed schedules or monotony, but he liked to know that there were consistencies in life; that there were some things he could depend on to _not_ surprise him.

She was one of those things.

He didn't know who she was, but every afternoon on his walk back to headquarters, she would emerge from the potter's shop, send the little old woman inside, and take her place amongst the bowls and the vases, waiting for a customer.

She was a beautiful creature, gentle, and delicate, but with a clear air of confidence. From what he observed in those brief moments of passing, she was traditional and calm; a welcome change from the two whirlwinds his friends had chosen. It wasn't that he thought ill of Tokio and Shousha's unconventional and often reckless ways; he loved them both dearly, almost as much as his own sister, and that was exactly what those sorts of women were. Sisterly. Friends.

Now it would be wrong to say that he had never been attracted to them. Well, not both of them; it had always been known that Shousha was Okita's girl, but before Saitou had laid his claim on Tokio, Harada had, in fact, made several attempts to win her affections. She never returned his advances with anything more than a roll of her eyes and this didn't bother him at all. He had lovers abound.

Until now. He had lost interest in most of the woman whose hearts he held, instead looking forward to those brief seconds when he walked home.

The first day he had noticed the woman at the pottery shop, he had glanced at her face once and her body twice. Happy with what he saw, his eyes moved to her the next day as well. By the end of the first week, he could safely say that her eyes were nearly as black as the hair she wore in a loose braid over her shoulder. By the second week, he noticed she was left handed. At the end of the first month of knowing of her existence, he knew that the shop she worked at was run by her grandmother, she was unmarried (either a maiden or a widow, he wasn't quite sure about_ that_ detail), twenty years old, had no siblings, and possessed a lovely singing voice.

What he didn't know was her name.

"You should talk to her, Harada-san."

They had stopped walking, and it was Okita now who was staring at the object of his desire.

Harada scratched the back of his neck. "What would I say?"

Okita looked at him, surprised. Harada Sanosuke was never at a loss for words when in the company of a woman.

"I suppose that would depend on what your intentions are."

"My intentions."

Okita shifted and turned to his friend. "Yes, Harada-san. What do you want with her? Friendship? One night? Several nights? A lifetime?"

Harada froze._ A lifetime_. Of all the scenarios he had been presented with, that seemed to be the only fitting answer. She did not seem to be the type of woman who would give herself up for one night and he doubted she had any intention of making a mistress of herself. Friendship alone was out of the question as physical desire accompanied the emotional pull that he felt towards her.

He was in his mid-twenties. It was about time he found himself a bride and settled down.

"You're right," he said, slapping his fist into his open palm. "I'll go say something."

He could feel Okita's encouraging smile on his back as he headed towards the shop. It wouldn't be so hard. He had a million lines he could use. He'd open it up with a polite classic. His prince charming greeting.

_I beg your pardon, miss,_ (cue roguish smile) _but would you honor me with a moment of your time_?

Once he had her attention, he would invade her space just enough to send a cute little blush scattering across her cheeks, then back away before she had a chance to realize how close they had been. She'd question if it was his scent filling her nose or the soap maker next door. She'd wonder if she'd felt his hand brush hers or if she was imagining it.

She would _need_ to know.

That was how it worked. Women were simple. There were only a few tricks he needed to pull before they wrapped themselves quite willingly around his finger and soon afterwards, around more dangerous parts of his body.

His heart was pounding as he came up to the displays outside of the storefront. It was an unusual feeling for him, nervousness. His confidence with the opposite sex was unmatched in all the men he knew, sometimes bordering on cocky.

Before he could open his mouth, his foot connected with a large vase and he let out a small cry of panic as he fumbled to right it. The woman looked up, casting him a nervous glance, but he gave her a goofy grin in response.

"Sorry 'bout that."

She smiled at him, making her way around the table she had been arranging.

"Can I help you with something, sir?"

"Yes."

How eloquent of him. It seemed that his prince charming move was out the window now and he had to do some quick thinking. His mind, however, was completely blank.

She was staring at him with those dark eyes of hers. They were big. Huge, even. He couldn't help but wonder if she were human at all or just a life sized doll. There were three freckles next to her nose that had never noticed before. Of course he hadn't noticed. He'd never been this close.

"What is it that you are looking for?" she asked politely, "most of the pieces you will find here are made by my grandmother, though a select few were my mother's."

Still, Harada didn't say anything. Was she completely orphaned or was her father around somewhere? If she didn't have parents, when had she lost them? If she had been young, not having any siblings must have made grieving even more difficult, with no one to lean on. He couldn't imagine_ his_ life without his sister, even if he hadn't seen her in years.

". . .sir?"

She was nervous now and he kicked himself internally. If he didn't say something to clear the air of the tension that was settling in, his chance might be ruined forever. He searched his mind for something clever to say. He wracked his brain and dug through previous encounters with females, but all that managed to escape his lips was:

"Will you marry me?"

Shocked, the woman covered her mouth to hide what might have been the beginnings of a scream. Her breath quickened for a few seconds, but then she calmed, straightened and gave him a strangely maternal look of concern.

"I beg your pardon, sir," she said, stepping closer to him and lowering her voice so as not to humiliate him if anyone were listening, "but are you drunk?"

_Drunk?_

"No- yes, I mean NO! No. No I am not drunk."

She didn't seem convinced and Harada could hardly blame her. He wasn't doing a very good job of proving his sobriety. If only Hijikata could see him now. He was quite certain that this spectacle could cause even his stoic demon of a friend to laugh himself into an early grave.

"I see," she said slowly and Harada straightened, rubbing his face with his large hands.

"Forgive me." he started, "you prolly think I'm some big dumb idiot, but I'm not, I swear."

She looked around, possibly seeking an escape, hero, or weapon. He only hoped it wasn't the latter. He couldn't hit a girl, not even in his own defense. They were too delicate.

"I've been watchin' you for a while now," he confessed before clenching his jaw. Damn. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Watching me?" Her eyes grew, if possible, even wider and a blush that was not flirtation or infatuation, but _fear_ rose up in her cheeks.

"Not like that," he groaned, reaching for a bowl and holding it out to her. "I'll just take this."

"But sir it's-"

"_Please_."

"A-alright," she said, taking the piece from his hands and wrapping it for him. He paid and turned, not giving her time to thank him, and cursing himself for being such a blundering oaf. Since when did women make_ him_ tongue tied? She hadn't even done anything that hinted at seduction, yet there he was, staring dumbly and speaking like a green boy.

"Sir?"

Harada closed his eyes. He didn't want to turn to face her, but he wasn't the sort of man to ignore a polite request from a girl. Cracking one eye open, he looked over his shoulder at her. She held out the package she had wrapped for him. Of course. He would forget it.

With a sigh he took the few strides back to her and when his hands brushed against hers as the parcel was handed over, it was completely unintentional. Her reaction, however, was exactly as it would have been had he planned it.

Recovering from her momentary loss of equilibrium, where her heart did some sort of strange pitter patter and her stomach was performing acrobatics she had never even heard of before, she looked up to him and smiled, her face slightly flushed.

"You may visit again tomorrow if you wish."

He grinned at this, not having expected it at all. Tucking his purchase away, he gave her another grin and a wink.

"I'll do just that."

He left then to join his short comrade and the old lady came up beside her granddaughter, jabbing her in the ribs with her cane.

"What was all that about, Masa?"

The raven haired beauty turned to her guardian and let out a small sigh. "A suitor, grandmother. He wants to marry me."

The old woman squinted her eyes at the Shinsengumi pair who were still standing in the middle of the road, discussing something, most likely the event that had just transpired.

"That little guy? The evening breeze will knock him right over."

"Not him," Masa said softly, putting her hands on her grandmother's shoulders and bending over to whisper excitedly into her ear, "The tall handsome one."

Snorting, she huffed. "He looks like a rooster!"

Masa pouted her lips slightly. Her grandparents were constantly complaining about her lack of suitors. It wasn't that no men had ever desired her hand, but that the ones who had, Masa had quickly rejected. Her guardians didn't know this of course, as they very well would have picked out any of the gentlemen for her and sent her on her way.

She wasn't a rebellious girl, and she didn't have any grandiose visions of love, but she did want to be _happy._ Before ten minutes ago, all of the men who had tried for her had been either boring, hideous, or extremely arrogant. Masa was fully ready to serve and honor a husband, but it would be extremely difficult to compliment a man who spent his entire day singing his own praises. She just wasn't creative enough.

"But he's handsome," she said, trying not to sound as if she were dreaming (though she was), "and strong. Just look at him."

But her grandmother clucked her tongue. "That's all well and good child, but look closer and you'll see that he's a soldier."

Masa bit her lip. "Isn't that a good thing?"

She had always thought that a man who fought for what he believed in was a man to be honored and respected. It showed that he had a certain sense of morals and beliefs that he wouldn't ever turn from. More than that, the man who had just proposed to her wore a Shinsengumi uniform. From what she had heard, their training was strict, terrifyingly so, and they were insanely organized.

Maybe it was because she didn't understand the politics behind it, but while most of the city scowled at the men in blue, Masa cheered them on.

Secretly, of course.

Grandmother would have a fit if she knew such unladylike thoughts were entering her head.

"You don't want to marry a soldier," the old woman said bitterly, "so get it out of your mind right now."

"Why not?" Masa pressed, giving a smile to a regular of theirs who had come to browse.

"_Forget him_."

"He was very funny," she tried gingerly, knowing the woman's clandestine love for humor. He hadn't meant to be funny, and in the moment, she had been scared, but replaying his clumsy words and actions caused her to giggle.

The thud of the cane caused Masa to jump and she knew that the conversation was about to end.

"Marry a man like that and you have no certainty," her grandmother bit off. "You'll lay your head down to sleep each night and it's a very good chance that when you wake up, he'll be dead. Is that what you want? To be a widow at twenty, twenty-one? Twenty-two?"

Accepting the authority over her, Masa bit her tongue as she received another jab to the ribs.

"Be a good girl and have some sense. Keep your heart _out_ of this war. Nothing good will come of getting involved."

Left alone outside, Masa snuck one last glance at Harada as he and his friend headed home. She _wasn'_t a rebellious girl, but as she thought about the visit he would make tomorrow, both her heart and stomach involuntarily fluttered.

That couldn't be a bad thing, could it?

xxxx

**Author's Note:** This was going to be a one-shot like _A Leg for a Wife_, but then I thought better of it as little things here and there began to pop up.

This will be maybe 2-4 chapters in total, just for fun. :)

Merry Christmas!


	2. Unsure Juliet

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to Cassowary for Masa's family name! Couldn't find that nugget anywhere.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the official Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X characters. I do reserve the rights to all OCs.

**TWO: **Unsure Juliet

When Harada arrived at the pottery shop the next day, his confidence had returned. She had, after all, invited him back.

"Good afternoon, sir," she greeted him politely, though there was a knowing spark in her eye that caused him to grin.

"Good afternoon," he replied, scanning the area for her grandmother, "you alone today?"

Her lips parted slightly at his hopeful tone and she wrung her hands out of excitement. "Grandmother is taking her nap early today," she replied, "the early spring still has a chill and she's afraid of catching the cold."

"And you?" he asked.

She smiled, "I've always managed to evade illnesses."

When she turned to adjust some small vases on a shelf, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the high wooden table she often sat behind.

"Will you tell me your name?" he inquired.

He could see her smiling even though she tried to hide it, and when she faced him, he had made his eyes wide and pleading, sticking out his bottom lip in a humorous pout.

"What use have you for my name?" she questioned, teasing him, "I don't believe my grandmother would approve of a friendship between the two of us."

"And why not?" he countered, "I'm a respectable gentleman."

He considered his own words for a moment before adding, "at least I'm tryin' to be."

"Were you not before?"

Scratching at a spot just above his eyebrow, he gave her a false look of sternness. "With age comes, maturity, or so they say."

"Masa," she told him, taking a few steps to stand before him, lowering her voice, "my name is Sugawara Masa."

"You never answered my question, Sugawara Masa," he replied, voice equally low as he handed her a bowl that matched the one he had bought the day before.

With expert hands, she wrapped his parcel. "to which question are you referring, sir?"

"Sanosuke," he corrected her.

"Sanosuke," she repeated, face taking on a pretty blush as she spoke a stranger's given name before him.

He accepted the parcel, waiting for his change as she counted it out.

"I asked you yesterday if you would marry me."

Handing him the currency she owed him, she gave him a knowing smile. "Perhaps you could try asking me tomorrow."

That was what she said every day.

_Ask again tomorrow._

It was clever of her, Harada gave her credit for that. It wasn't that she was avoiding his question, or was afraid of rejecting him, but she wanted to know him, and in order to do so, she would have to meet with him. She had never been married, he learned, and a meeting alone with him could cost her her reputation, should she not find him suitable.

Sometimes their conversations were brief, and other times her miserable old grandmother chased him away with her cane for staying too long. It didn't matter to him how long he spent with her, so long as he could hear her voice every day.

As the days wore on and she finally admitted to considering him a friend, Harada contemplated when it _would_ be appropriate to see her alone. They didn't have to be entirely alone; a walk in the busy streets would be enough. He could even have Tokio come along. She was a married woman, if only by a couple weeks; surely she could make a fine chaperone.

It was during one of these musings, while he was arranging every piece of pottery he had bought (thus far, he counted seventeen), that his closest friend, and vice-commander, Hikijata Toshizo stepped into the room.

"Hey there, Toshi!" he greeted enthusiastically, lounging back on the floor and swirling a cup on the ground with his finger.

Hijikata gave a look of disapproval at the careless way his friend handled the artwork, but ignored the act otherwise.

"I didn't realize you had such a large collection of pottery," he noted.

Harada shrugged, "I just got into it, really. Gonna have this place filled up soon."

Hijikata let a smile crack through his lips. "A fine way to show support to the family of the girl you're trying to court."

"Keep spreading that rumor you're gonna ruin my reputation," he replied, feigning hurt, "someone will think I'm trying to find myself a wife."

"Aren't you?"

Harada shot him a mischievous grin. "If she'll have me."

xxxx

_Will you walk with me?_

Masa stared at Harada, heart thumping. Her grandmother stood at her side, arms crossed, sporting the frown of all frowns. Had he really asked her that?

Each time they had met, she found herself liking him more and more. He was so incredibly genuine, and so nonchalantly charismatic, she couldn't help herself. Every time he turned to leave, she wished she had said more. Even still, she knew he would return the very next day, simply because she asked him to.

When he visited her, they didn't talk about anything extraordinary, and for all his cheekiness, he was never lewd or inappropriate, something she could tell he struggled with, for all the opportunities she may have opened up for his perverse sense of humor.

There were some times that he brought her small gifts, and once even a lunch box that he claimed to have made himself. She treasured all of these moments, all the while trying to figure out an opening in her grandmother's resolve that she might convince her that Harada Sanosuke was, in fact, a good match for her.

If they had made any progress, however, he had destroyed all of it by his scandalous request.

"_Alone_?"

Masa lowered her eyes as her grandmother's screeching pierced her ears.

"Yes," came Harada's solid reply.

"Of all the ridiculous things I have heard from a young man! Just where do you intend to take her?"

"I hadn't really thought about that yet, granny," he admitted, flashing a boyish grin at his crush, hoping to ease her mortification.

"Making it up as you go then, eh boy?"The old lady was shaking her cane at him, fires blazing in her eyes, "I know your type, mister Casanova, taking advantage of young ladies at your whim."

"Aw, come on now. It's not like-"

"I'll come."

Both Harada and the cranky old woman froze, looking to Masa who had risen her head and was staring ahead at him, jaw set.

"W-what?"

"Masa, what are you thinking! Going off with this street-"

"I said I'm going," she repeated, turning to her grandmother with a deep bow, "I will be back in time to begin dinner preparations."

As she rounded the table to stand by Harada, she watched her guardian's jaw fall slack. She did her best resisting the urge to look back as he led her away, but inside, she was smiling at her small victory.

She fell behind him and while he struck conversation, she stood straight, nodding politely and answering his questions appropriately. After ten minutes, he turned, took hold of her upper arm, and pulled her up to his side.

"I can't hear a word you're saying back there," he muttered, releasing her gently.

"Is this-" she looked around for any sign of someone who might know her, "is this alright?"

Sighing, he shook his head, "I don't care for any of that two steps behind nonsense. If I'm walking with a woman it's 'cause I want to hear what she's got to say, yeah?"

"But a man," she said, repeating what she had been raised to believe, "he is the head of the family and as such, he should always lead, shouldn't he? A woman should honor the man, and follow him wherever he may go."

"Ah that may be so," Harada agreed, purchasing a grilled eel from a vendor and handing it to her, "but I have a more modern view of marriage, I think. Inspired by a couple I happen to know."

She accepted the food graciously and when she sat down to enjoy it, he smiled at her and sat along side her.

"And what might that be?" she asked quietly, savoring the flavor of the treat.

"Togetherness," he replied, "You see, my friend's got this wife, and though he'll swear up and down that she does his bidding, you know what? They're a team. A real team. They play off of each other's strengths, and make up for their respective weaknesses. I like that. I want that."

Masa thought about that for a moment. She certainly did agree that marriage was a collaborative effort made by man and woman, but she had never considered the idea of a spouse being the missing pieces to fill in the cracks of the other. He entire life she had prepared to care for a husband, with hope that if she did a good enough job as a wife, he would care for her too.

She never expected to meet a man who was just as willing to honor as to be honored.

"I think I would like that too," she told him softly.

He grinned at that, leaning over to place two fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"Would you like that with me?"

It was the first time he had ever asked her to share her life with him in such a fashion. Every day he simply said, _You haven't answered my question_.

At first, she had thought he was drunk. Then, a simple fool, or perhaps he was playing a joke on her. At twenty years old, she was nearly a spinster. As the days passed, she realized he was serious, his determination to have her as his bride just as strong as the Shinsengumi's will to protect the city.

It was overpowering, the way he handled her. It was just two fingers, but she felt like his hands were everywhere. No, it wasn't his hands. The power she felt over her wasn't physical.

He had asked once if she would marry him. Now he was asking if she would be happy with him. If she _wanted_ him.

Was that the way it was supposed to be? She had given herself the power to reject suitors before, but now the power of choice was being presented to _her_.

And what reason did she have to say no? He was handsome, strong, funny, and clearly determined to achieve what he sought out to do, both politically and domestically.

While the thought of togetherness was appealing, it was also frightening to Masa, who knew little in the ways of such things. She wasn't strong or brave, and had no reason to go against what she had been taught. How could she take a vow of togetherness if she wasn't entirely sure what togetherness meant?

"I think," she began, choosing her words carefully, "that perhaps we should discuss this another time. My head is swimming."

"How can I convince you?" he asked sweetly, leaning forward and resting his forehead against hers. "that you are the only woman I can imagine at my side for the rest of my days."

"Y-you-you are t-too close," she stammered. The spiky tufts of his hair brushed up against hers, and the long jet tail that fell over his shoulder brushed against the bare skin of her neck.

"I'm not," he told her gently.

And she believed him.

When his lips touched hers, she froze, and when they molded against her, softly, pleadingly, _expertly_, her thoughts vanished.

Propriety lost in the moment, her fears were not that they would be seen, but that she didn't know what to do with her hands. It felt strange to have them folded on her lap as they were, but didn't have the courage to grip the front of his clothing, or touch him in any other fashion.

He pulled away slowly, holding in his breath. He shouldn't have done that. What was worse, were the words that spilled from his mouth.

"I guess this makes us lovers," he said with a chuckle.

Masa's mouth dropped open and he gently closed it with one finger under her jaw.

"A-are you trying to trick me?" she asked once she found her voice again. Her fingers traveled idly to her tingling lips, trying to believe, and preserve what had just happened.

Harada sat back, lounging against the bench. "No way. I'd have you again if you'd let me."

"You'd have me for life," she whispered, still disbelieving.

"Yes," he said firmly, "I would."

xxxx

**Author's Note:** Fluffernutter.


	3. Unbreakable Lovers

**Author's Notes: **This chapter makes me wish Hijikata had a girl. But then again, not really. Enjoy the third and final installment of this little love story~ :D

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the official Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X characters. I do reserve the rights to all OCs.

**THREE: **Unbreakable Lovers

It wasn't long after the kiss they had shared that Masa began to find any reason to be with him. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, errands, prayer, free time- it didn't matter. If she could make an excuse to be away from the shop at the same time Harada could be away from the dojo, she would.

It was new to her, and very exciting, this feeling of infatuation, of romantic notions. She had always happily anticipated his daily visits, but when _she_ ran to meet _him_, her heart raced in time with her feet and she found herself leaping happily into his arms. When he picked her up, she felt weightless. When he spun her around, her heart danced, and each feathery kiss along her jawline was a moment of bliss.

At first she had been cautious of his physical affection, constantly alert and checking her surroundings for people she may know, but as time wore on, she began to care less and less what people thought of her. What did it matter if they were to make a scandal of themselves? He wanted to marry her anyway, and despite her evasiveness of his question, she was more than ready to become Harada Masa herself.

Being with her was something new for him as well. Where he had always been the type of man who had an easy way with women, he found it surprising that he didn't want to ravish her.

Well, that wasn't _entirely_ true. He did very much want to ravish her. He did want her naked, and he _did_ want her beneath him, with her fingers pulling at his hair and her hips rising to meet his, but for the first time in his adult life, it was not at the front of his mind. In fact, the only time it crossed his mind at all was when he laid himself down to sleep-alone-each night.

What he wanted was simply _her._ He wanted her to look up at him with her giant, curious black eyes. He wanted her to laugh, so he could see the tiny wrinkle in her nose, and hear the well-bred giggle that bubbled up from her throat. He wanted her naivety and her apprehension, her coyness, and her fumbling propriety. That was all, and that was enough.

While they spent more than their fair share of time alone together, Harada never failed to arrive exactly at his usual time to make his purchase and to flirt with her in the presence of her overbearing grandparent. As far as they knew, she didn't know about their meetings, save the first, and she was just as disapproving as always, never moving from her newly appointed spot by Masa's side, forever staring Harada down as if he were a demon who might whisk the young maiden away forever.

Then one day, everything changed.

Masa was not outside that spring day. A head cold, the old woman said. Then the next day she was suffering from too much sun. The day after that, a stomach bug had plagued the house. In the days that followed _that_, it seemed that she was in quite a bit of pain from her monthly cycle.

On the ninth day, Harada had had enough.

"I want to see Masa," he told the old woman fiercely. She wasn't sick, she had said herself that she was not prone to illnesses.

"You can't," came her grandmother's bitter reply, "She is not accepting visitors."

"Bullshit!" he shouted, slamming his fist onto the table. Several passersby stopped and stared and he muttered a hesitant apology. That outburst wouldn't reflect well on the Shinsengumi, he imagined, as many of the onlookers would most likely see him as bullying the elderly.

He bit back a curse as he lowered his voice, forcing himself to remain calm. "I will see her," he growled. "_now._"

For the tiny and frail wisp of a thing she was, the old woman remained firm.

"You don't seem to get it, do you, young man? I warned her that you were no good. I _knew_ what your intentions were. I thought my excuses would ward you off, but you're much too thickheaded."

Harada glared ahead. "Don't be cryptic with me, grandma. I'm in no mood."

"Fine," she snapped, "I have forbidden her from ever coming into contact with you again. By your shameless public acts, you have destroyed her reputation and therefore any chances that she might find a decent husband!"

_I _am_ a decent husband_,he growled inwardly, but knowing it was no use.

"I appreciate your patronage, but kindly request that you take your business elsewhere."

Had he been a few years younger, he might have lashed out in anger, destroying the shelves that were on display along with all the pottery on them. He may have stood there, bellowing orders at her and causing a horrific scene of petulance. Because he was not so young anymore, and his friendship with Hijikata had eased his rash nature, if only slightly, he did none of those things.

Instead, he walked away.

He did not return to the woods, or to the pottery shop. After several days of misery and anger, it was Saitou Hajime who finally intervened.

"You're beginning to look like Okita," the golden eyed man said with distaste, "mourning with your broken heart on your sleeve."

It was lunch time and Saitou and Harada were enjoying some beef hot pot with Hijikata and Okita. Or rather, Saitou and Hijikata were enjoying it. Okita had little appetite and Harada was too busy concentrating on his furious chewing to do much else.

"I am not mourning," Okita protested quietly, though no one paid any much attention to his weak rebuttal.

"My heart's not _broken,_" Harada said fiercely, stabbing at his empty plate with his chopsticks for emphasis, "I am _frustrated_."

"And why is this, Sanosuke?" Hijikata asked calmly, eyes sliding over to his irritated friend.

Saitou blew on a bite lazily, "He's been banned from the potter's shop," he answered.

Hijikata looked up. "Really now?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Harada said, a slight pout in his voice, "I'll figure something out."

"So it comes down to a woman then."

"I said I don't wanna talk about it!"

His mouth set it a firm line, the only indication of irritation, the only sign of _emotion_, the vice commander set down his plate.

"Since we are all gathered here together, I have to ask: Is there any man in this dojo that is _not_ currently ruled by the thoughts of a female?"

Each of the three captains before him tried to place themselves in that bracket, but Hijikata silenced them all with the raise of his hand.

"You," he said to Okita, "have thought of nothing but your girl for twenty years."

He pointed next to Harada. "You're trying to gain yourself a bride."

Saitou steeled his jaw. "I pray you will not lump me in with these romantic fools," he said cooly.

To this, Hijikata raised a brow. "You are a newlywed. I doubt much more than that has to be said."

Saitou frowned considerably as Okita and Harada began to snicker.

"Yanno, I think you're just jealous, Toshi," Harada said, relaxing and crossing his arms, "I think you just want a woman of your own."

Hijikata let out a small laugh, pulling out a bundle from the inside of his kimono. "I could have any woman, should I so desire."

"More love letters, Hijikata-san?" Okita asked, reaching over the table as the bundle was passed to him.

"It is tiring," he replied.

"Oh yes," Saitou drawled. "It must be most unfortunate to be the most attractive man in Kyoto."

"It is most unfortunate," Hijikata told him, "when the most attractive_ woman_ in Kyoto is already married."

Saitou bristled. "You step on dangerous ground, Hijikata-san."

"I do not covet your wife," he said plainly, "I was simply stating a fact."

Flipping through the messages of adoration, Okita laughed. "Do you respond to these, Hijikata-san- oh look, this one is from a young gentleman!"

Harada leaned over, snatching a few missives from his small friend's hands. "Yeah, seriously. How do you find the time?"

"I don't acknowledge them at all. I don't even read them."

Okita looked up, frowning. "You don't even read them? These poor girls-"

"And boy," Harada interrupted.

"-and boy," he added, "take the time to pour their souls out to you and you don't even _read_ them?"

"I am responsible for enough souls as it is," Hijikata replied, "I can not add the words of lovesick women to my burdens."

"Love isn't so bad," Okita said, chuckling.

"I imagine it isn't," he agreed, "after all the good it's done you."

For a moment, the room went silent. Even Saitou was shocked at the words that had escaped his vice commander's lips.

"My apologies," Hijikata said, closing his eyes as he watched the hurt rise up in the first captain's chest, "that was uncalled for."

Harada cleared his throat and stood. "Well now that Toshizo's got his foot in his mouth, I'm gonna go get my girl."

Saitou looked doubtful, "I thought you were forbidden to see her."

"Yeah well," he looked towards Okita who was covering up the insult with a terrifyingly hollow grin, "I suddenly don't care."

xxxx

"Don't look at me that way."

Masa sighed, folding the laundry that she had just taken in. "I'm sorry, grandmother. I miss him."

The old woman looked away. She didn't like to see her only grandchild in pain, despite the girl's honest attempts to hide her true emotions. Still, that man had ruined her. Kissing her in the streets like she was some harlot. Unbelievable!

Word had spread quickly that Sugawara Masa had taken on a lover. For all her protests that she was still pure, the mothers of potential suitors had not believed her. When the rumors finally reached the ears of her grandparents, she had been cut off from Harada entirely.

_It's for your own good_, she had been told. After time, the rumors would die down and she might just have a chance at a husband.

Truth be told, she didn't care what the mothers of potential suitors thought of her. In her eyes, there were no potential suitors. Sanosuke was the only man she wanted to spend her life with. As he had already been appointed her lover by society, she didn't see much of a problem. It was only unfortunate for her that her grandmother was standing firm on her _no soldier _rule.

"I love him, grandmother," she said softly, bracing herself for the smack of the cane.

But it never came.

When she looked up, the old woman had a strange faraway look in her eyes and if Masa's eyesight was still good (and it was), tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes.

"I told you not to give your heart to a warrior," she said, shaking off the emotion, "nothing good will come of it."

"But _why_?"

It was the first time she had ever tried to get a decent reasoning. She had worked so hard at trying to change her grandmother's mind, she hadn't bothered to get to the root of the problem.

Just as the woman opened her mouth to cut off the inquiry, there was a loud thud from the entrance of the house.

"MASA!"

Eyes wide, Masa froze, her grandfather's yukata held up in front of her, ready to be folded. _He was here_.

"MASA!"

"Oh gods," she whispered. This would not end well.

When Harada flung open the door to the living area, she dropped the clothing in her hands, as well as her jaw. Fully equipped with his daisho and spear, he looked far more like a member of a brute squad than a lover come to rescue his woman. Were Shinsengumi always this prepared for battle? Even against the elderly?

Catching his breath, he pointed his spear at her and she let out a small squeak of surprise.

"Masa," he huffed, catching his breath, "I've come for you."

"So I noticed," she replied, eyeing the weapon nervously. He didn't intend to _use_ it, did he?

"Get out of my house!" came the shriek of the old woman, raising her cane against him, "You monster! It's no wonder they call you wolves!"

To the surprise of both women, he caught the cane with ease before the wood cracked against his shoulder. He had never before defended himself against her attacks. Masa had always thought it was because he feared her grandmother, but she now realized that he had endured the beatings out of affection for the hag. He had been humoring her, allowing her to have control.

But now he stood tall and powerful in their home and the dark haired maiden was not sure what she should do. She should have been happy to see him, but there was an edge to his voice today, one that she had never heard before.

"If you will not let me have her," he began slowly, easing the elderly woman into a sitting position with his grip on her cane, "you _will_ explain why."

When her expression softened, Masa let out a breath and pushed the laundry aside, looking between the two.

"I'm old," she began, "too old for this. Too old to be keeping secrets."

Masa scooted forward questioningly, but Harada stood, arms crossed, eyes baring down on the old woman.

She looked to Masa and shook her head. "I should have told you sooner."

"Told me what?" she asked, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Sighing, she rubbed her face. With an urging look from his lover, Harada took a seat opposite the two women.

"My daughter married a good man," she started, staring down at her wrinkled palms, "A very good man."

Masa swallowed. She had never heard stories of her parents. The topic was completely taboo. All she knew was that they were dead. That was all she needed to know, she had always been told.

"They were happy. Young, and poor, but happy. And very much in love. In this world, it's rare to make a love match."

"Not so rare," Harada interjected, "I can name five at least."

She didn't acknowledge this. "As rare as it is now, back then, it was damn near impossible. They lived a small, but respectable life, and two years after they were married, my daughter conceived.

"At this time, there was a small land war in the north. We didn't pay much attention to it at first, but my son-in-law saw it as an opportunity. He didn't want his wife and child to struggle, so he enlisted, with hopes to send all of his wages home."

Masa sat dumbfounded. "My father went off to war to care for _us_? How then can you say you disapprove of soldiers?"

Snapping her gaze up to meet her granddaughters, the older woman balled her hands into fists. "A month after he left he _died_, Masa. One month. Took a sword to the chest."

Lowering her head again, she closed her eyes. She had never spoken of this to anyone, even having kept this information from Masa.

"Penniless and broken hearted, my daughter lost all will to live. My husband and I took Masa out of the decaying putrescence that had become of their household when she was a mere four months old."

"I am sorry for the pain your daughter endured from her husband's death," Harada said earnestly, "but not all circumstances are so dire."

"You don't understand," she said bitterly, looking him fiercely in the eye, "I watched my daughter drive herself to _suicide_. I will not see that happen to Masa! I will NOT allow it!"

Masa's breath caught, but now she understood. Harada also understood, but understanding did not mean giving up. Without a second though, he pulled open the lapels of his clothing, pushing the garments off his torso, sitting bare chested before the two women.

His gaze was intense and challenging as they observed him. Masa wanted to cry. It seemed that there was no flesh on his body that had not been marred by injury at one point or another. How could it be that someone as beautiful as he was so damaged? Her grandmother, however, expressed nothing.

"The spear may have its disadvantages," Harada began calmly, "but I have yet to meet a man whose steel can kill me." He absently ran one of his large, battered hands over a thick horizontal scar on his abdomen. "Not even my own."

Masa reached a hand out, but upon second thought, withdrew. His scars frightened her, opening her eyes to the business he was in, but her heart didn't waver. She wouldn't be like her mother. She _knew_ he could die at any moment, and if she could, she would marry him with this knowledge. She would prepare herself for the news every day, and each day that he came home to her, she would rejoice.

"I may not be a prince," he said, "but I am a good man, and I will be a good husband. I have a bad temper, but I'll never raise my hand to her. I don't always think before I act, but I take responsibility for what I do. And if ever I happen to meet a man who is skilled enough to take my life, you have my word, on the soul of my father, that your granddaughter will be cared for. I have savings, and I have friends who will take her in and care for her, along with any children we might have."

Still, Masa's grandmother stood strong. "You can beg for my permission-"

"I'm not," he interrupted.

"_Excuse me?_"

"I'm not asking for your permission," he told her, ruffling the ebon feathers that fell over his forehead and throwing Masa a reassuring grin, "I'm letting you know. I love Masa, and she's gonna be my wife. All I need is for her to accept me. I don't need you, but I don't want you cursing me neither."

Stunned into silence, she turned to Masa. "Persistent bastard, isn't he?"

"Grandmother," she said, black eyes bearing into aged blue, "I understand. Please believe me when I tell you that I know what comes with marriage to a warrior. I'm ready to accept that life. Don't let your heart break for me like it has my mother."

Defeated, an unable to justify keeping her locked away, she nodded hesitantly. "You have a choice to make then, girl."

Masa looked to Harada and he stood, reaching out his hand to her. When she accepted, he lifted her gently to her feet and pulled her against his scarred flesh.

"Sugawara Masa," he whispered into her hair, "_please_. Answer my question."

She looked up at him, eyes shining as she took his scruffy face in her hands.

"Ask me again every day for the rest of our lives, Sanosuke," she said, lifting her face towards his, "so that each day I can tell you: _yes."_

xxxx

**Author's Note:** All done! Hope you liked that one~ :D


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